


it’s a big ocean out there

by hobbes_essay



Series: luna moth wings [2]
Category: Lost in Translation (Webcomic)
Genre: (not suicide, 2nd Person, ??? - Freeform, Choking, Drowning, Gen, Ok!!, Poetry, References to Abuse, References to Manipulation, WARNINGS:, Water, and no one is really dying), drowning again, idk what type of person that is, mentions of abuse, no beta we die like men, references (very very vague) to self harm, references to death, refers to jaewon as ‘you’, this is all just so much poetry, this was edited one time at 23:55 so, whole lot of water imagery so just. don’t touch this if that’s a squick, yall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:07:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26715745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobbes_essay/pseuds/hobbes_essay
Summary: ahn jaewon is drifting
Series: luna moth wings [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1923967
Comments: 7
Kudos: 17





	it’s a big ocean out there

**Author's Note:**

> takes place before strawberry bandaids! this is. a freewritten poetry style piece and refers to the reader or ‘you’ as jaewon. can be read many different ways, check tags for content warnings.
> 
> +huge paragraphs and so many run on sentences. it’s supposed to be this way and i’m sorry if it’s a hard read!!

It starts subtle at first. It’s a moment when, maybe just slightly, your ripples are off time with everyone else, and you get pushed away. Maybe you’re late, maybe you’re early. You’re standing out and now the pushback sends you off to sea. It’s all smiles and cheers when you get on the boat, it’s happy times and friendly banter. It’s the glow of your hearts, the harmonies in your words. It’s so lovely, so easy to stop with the slightest misstep in the dance of life. And if you’re pulled to a stop, what happens to you? What if you’re thrown off the boat, a sacrifice for the depths unknown. And it’s okay, you tell yourself, because it’s for everything that they worked on, and it’s for everything you worked on. So as you’re falling, crashing, and hitting the waves- all you can hear is the melody of happiness, and if you could, while you're gagged and tied up, you’d have sung along too.

But sooner or later, you’ve sunk deep enough that you can’t hear the singing anymore. The ocean whisks you away, dragging you every which way and you’re just letting it do as it wants. You’re pulled deeper and deeper and of course you can’t breathe, you haven’t been able to for a long time. Sometimes you want to cry at the top of your lungs, sometimes you want to tear your binds off and swim to the surface, but you can’t because you’re already drowning and you have been for so long. You’ve gone to the deep and floated back and now you’re drifting and sinking and it won’t stop. You won’t stop. You pass by glaciers, volcanoes, and drift into the open ocean. It’s empty. It’s scary. It’s so scary that you can’t help but close your eyes and pretend it’s not happening, that it’s a bad dream and you’re actually on that boat with everyone having great days and not drowning, not feeling your lungs fill up with water over and over again and still being conscious no matter how much you just want to go to sleep and ride the waves out.

And you’re so tired. You can’t sleep- you’ve been awake ever since you entered the water and now you can feel your limbs getting tighter and tighter and you can start seeing your translucent reflection on the surface. You’ve started changing to be more comfortable in the water and it scares you, because if you manage to get back on land, what will they make of you right now? Will they want you still? And you’ve had to change, almost every little thing isn’t all right anymore and you’re sinking, and you’re crying salty tears as the salt water burns your eyes and it’s painful, it’s terrible and you just want to be done, you want to end this cycle of drifting around the earth, being pulled, tugged, drowned, gagged, tied, hurt, and you want to take a break. You want to shout. You want to scream. You want to cry. And it all doesn't matter because there’s nothing you can do because there’s no one else around.

Sometimes, you get closer to the surface and you can hear the singing again. It’s a pleasant noise that when you forget it again it turns mocking, off-key harmonies toying with you as you drift down into the abyss. But when you can hear them, and truly hear them it’s as if the pain melts away for a moment and all you want to do is sing along. And your head breaks the surface and you don’t see them and you realize what you’re hearing is fake, that they’ve long left and now you’re just sinking, swimming forgotten behind as you can’t even sadly join along, with waves pulling you under and under and under and there isn’t anything you can do anymore but sink and sink and the chorus of the waves becomes the melody to your requiem and you’re silently singing your song, with every gasp and every cry, and eventually the gag comes off and the binds do too but now you don’t try to fight the waves anymore and you’re just singing along and going your way because now you're different and you think to yourself how they wouldn’t want you the way you were now if they didn’t want you the way you were then because now you’re nothing but a shell of yourself, crying and singing and drifting and the expanse of the ocean has become familiar now. The open ocean you fear becomes a place you call home, the drowning and choking and seeing nothing but blue for miles does nothing to you. You’re changing and your changing and sometimes you think you’re getting better and sometimes you think you’re getting worse and every time a ship passes you hope the ocean takes you that way because you don’t have any strength left to swim against the current, you may be free but you’re not free if you can’t do anything. 

Maybe, you might come across a current that pushes you to the surface and keeps you there, head above the water and suddenly you are breathing and it’s so foreign that you choke and gasp and the air you were yearning for feels like knives are being scraped on the back of your throat and you just want to go down down down back to the comfortable pain, the tolerable intolerant pain and now you can’t go back up again because the time you finally fight against a current is just to send you back into the cycle and it’s a mess, you’re a mess, and finally you promise yourself that it’s forever going to be this way until it’s not and when they take your body and drag it out of the beach they will be crying, and their salty tears will water your grave and it will all be ocean again and before you know it you’ll be right back where you started.

You’ll be back on that boat and you'll be singing along with everyone else, the pain you knew nothing but ghostly hands holding you down and strapping your legs together. Your throat is constricted with nothing but the phantoms of your pain, and you’re posing for the camera, smiling for fame and feeling like a fish out of water because the gills you’ve grown are nothing but the scars on your thighs and the currents that dragged you are nothing but lies. So you are drifting, not in the ocean but in your own life, making the ripples go wrong and constantly being off time. You are drifting, the blue expanse you see is nothing but the blue light of your screen in the middle of your night. And the glaciers. And the volcanoes. All the sea creatures and binds. The gag and your unwillingness to swim. Your eyes have become clear, and you cannot see. You hear and do, hear and do, and that’s all that’s left. Yes you are drifting, but you are not at sea. You are drifting, and that’s all you will do.

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> yoooooo hope ur okay here’s some tissues!!! anyways next will be a jun whump so 👀👀 eyes open ilyall


End file.
